


Favour and Fault

by different



Series: BAIT AND SWITCH [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Archery, Argument Resolution, High Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots with Crushes, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Miscommunication, Universal Inclusion of 00 Line, vague description of wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 23:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18200687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/different/pseuds/different
Summary: Jeno deals in magic and the blade. Dealing with Donghyuck is something else entirely.Or, in which Jeno comes to terms with his feelings for the archer boy. It goes better than expected.





	Favour and Fault

**Author's Note:**

> christening this new account with some high fantasy jendong!!!!!! if you know me i don't stop talking about fantasy setting dream, specifically white mage jeno / beserker renjun / archer haechan and this was written on a whim when i couldn't get any inspiration for my 100s of other wips u_u
> 
> also warning: this includes like? vaguest descriptions of blood which is directly linked to the hurt/comfort tag meant to be read literally. so if that makes u uncomfortable!! i'm letting ya know
> 
> hope u all enjoy! i'm probably not keeping up my CC but that and my twitter will be linked @ the end of this, come say hi ~

“This is serious, you know,” Donghyuck says in a prim tone, raising his bow over his head and pulling the string taut until it rests against his lip, squishing it a little. Jeno can only watch in a little bit of wonder, from where he sits on the grassy bank next to Jaemin. “The fact I’m spending my precious time with you losers instead of solo shooting is bizarre in itself.”

Donghyuck had been preparing for the junior aspect of the upcoming Nation-wide tournament for weeks, now. Since they lived in the capital, it meant a lot of these important events beneficial for their advancement of their future happened right here, at home. It was obvious taking it seriously, despite the bonus of home turf.

Scrapes from his bowstring had been more and more apparent up his inner arms each time they were found out of their respective uniforms for a late-night group meal, or in plainclothes; fingers a little sore from ripping out embedded wooden arrows from the stiff target bed.

It had definitely been taking a toll on him, that much was clear. He’d been shorter and sharper to everyone without meaning to, snapping at anyone who danced on his last nerve.

Jeno was, admittedly, a little shy for a manner of reasons from behind Jaemin when the younger had slung an arm around an in the process of heading to the training grounds Donghyuck; pulling him in tight, whining at him until the archer finally gave in and let them come along.

Despite a small part of it being initially the fact they just wanted to spend one of their apprentice guard shifts _saying_ they were marking the training grounds and instead promptly goofing off, they were both secretly kind of excited to see Donghyuck in his element.

After how hard the senior guard had been working them and the rest of their friends in the apprentice guild, getting to watch their friend practice was reward enough, Jeno thinks, if they get to see a sight like this.

His pose is nothing short of gorgeous, somehow stealing the show from the pretty spring weather, all sharp and angular as he focuses on the target. His skin stands out against the Marquis’ brick behind him, in the usual Archer’s band uniform of dark and tough material, the half sleeve stopping just above the dip in lean tricep muscle. One of his moles is just visible, failing to be covered by the sleeve.

The quiver residing across the line of his back shifts slightly as he locks in his position.

“’ _Serious’_ ,” Jaemin scoffs loudly, rendering a pinched look on Donghyuck’s face. He doesn’t look away from his target, bright in blue, yellow and white, identical to the ones definitely being used for the competition. The sharp arrowhead stills in the air.

“Yeah, serious.”

The arrow cuts through the air, Jaemin whistling lowly as it sinks deep into the line between yellow and white. Donghyuck puts the bow down to hang loosely by his side, turning to glare at Jaemin who smiles at him sheepishly, raising his hands up in an apology. There’s a couple of clinks from where the metal of his lightweight armour interlocks, the red of the City’s insignia sharp in the pale day on his chest. “You made me miss, Nana.”

Jaemin visibly relaxes at the use of the nickname, knowing he’s not really that mad. He pushes off of the bank with a hand on Jeno’s shoulder, and jogs over to the target place.

He rips out the arrow, retrieving it with a slight wheeze at how it was caught in the material. He brandishes it, shakes it a little as he wanders over to stand in front of an unimpressed Donghyuck.

“Sorry,” he teases, in that pouty way of talking. Something in Jeno’s heart (not that he wants to admit it in the slightest) twinges in the wrong way at the exchange, how close they’re standing.

Donghyuck promptly plucks the arrow out of Jaemin’s hand, sneering at him before turning the broader boy at the shoulder and shoving him back to where Jeno is sitting.

Jeno looks and looks until Donghyuck looks back through the gap of his arm over his shoulder, putting the arrow back into his quiver. His eyeline is sharp, but Donghyuck spares him a small smile when he puts his arm down as Jaemin retreats back to Jeno’s side. Jeno smiles back softly, even as Jaemin rests his head on Jeno’s shoulder.

“Isn’t the way he can kill someone in a heartbeat so incredibly,” he sighs dramatically, not unlike a swoon, “ _dreamy?_ ”

Jeno makes a noise of surprise, not unlike a lost puppy, craning his neck to stare down at Jaemin—or rather, Jaemin’s mop of dark hair. Jaemin snorts out in laughter at the overreaction, arm snaking around to squeeze his waist through the City Guard armour they’re both wearing and looks back up at him.

“Is our dearest, darling-est Jeno Lee jealous? _Finally_ ,” Jaemin says, coming in close so Donghyuck can’t overhear the moment with a smile like a snake’s strike, barrelling on and not letting Jeno vehemently deny such outrageous accusations. “Feels like it’s been eons since I’ve heard you have a crush on someone other than our Guard Capt—"

“OKAY, OKAY, THAT’S ENOUGH,” Jeno hisses sharply, shoving a hand over his friends cackling mouth clumsily and letting his face slip into something serene when Donghyuck looks over, distracted but quizzical. Him going around moon-eyed at anything Guard captain Doyoung did at the beginning of their training period, even when it was merely the smooth sheathing of his sword, was something Jeno had placed a strong, unofficial ban on talking about. This rule would be kept up until death.

“Also,” he continues through gritted teeth, even when Donghyuck looks away and gestures pointedly to where they had holstered their weapons, “ _we_ can do that. We’re training for the guard, here. Our weapons are literally over there.”

Donghyuck shoots off another arrow, in a world of his own, and makes a pleased sound when it strikes the absolute centre with his fingers curled around the polished wood of the bow’s grip.

Donghyuck was so ridiculously incredible in practically everything he touched, even the barest bones of black magic when he pestered head black mage Ten long enough for a couple of one-on-one lessons, but archery was by far his finest mastered trait.

“It’s just cute, you know,” Jaemin grins with far too many teeth, tapping his fingers on Jeno’s flank. “You having big, soppy feelings for Donghyuckie. Unsurprising, of course. Just very cute.”

“I don’t—that’s not quite… the case,” Jeno huffs, burying his face in his hands in only to contain the blush that erupted on his face.

One of the other things he didn’t address was his ridiculous crush on Donghyuck.

Hearing Jaemin talk about it so candidly, with the object of his affections just a few feet away and ready to kill him at a moment’s notice with that fucking bow, he wasn’t sure how to feel.

Sure, maybe he wouldn’t mind like… Holding his hand. Kissing him a little. These were things he didn’t want to entertain anywhere outside of his embarrassing dreams where Donghyuck pierces his heart not unlike a mythical cupid.

But, he can’t. Donghyuck is Donghyuck, and he’s just —

A number of things happen in the next few moments that interrupt his train of thought.

 

  1. The courtyard door opens up, _slams_ open really, rewarding them with the image of Chenle standing in the doorway and simply screeching joyfully in usual Zhong fashion, “WHERE IS JENO LEE?”
  2. Jeno startles easily, so Chenle’s loud appearance leaves him elbowing Jaemin in the side and makes the other guy choke. Oh well. Maybe he deserves it, somehow.
  3. Donghyuck yelps, high and loud from across the green, cradling his right hand to his chest.



 

Jeno, unsure where to look first, settles on Donghyuck like being drawn to a magnet.

“You okay, Hyuck?” He calls, waiting until Donghyuck turns to face them, and a small flash of scarlet has Jeno bounding up and heading over immediately.

“Cut myself,” Donghyuck mumbles, with a frustrated shock deep in his voice as he holds his hand up against his chest. “Pulled away too fast. Ah, fuck, it stings.”

“Can you let me see?” Jeno tries gently, and when Donghyuck pulls away out of pure instinct, he’s a little firmer this time, “Let me _see_ , Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck faces him properly, clearly unwilling but not trying to be a complete idiot when he knows the other is just trying to help, and Jeno gently takes his wrist and pulls it so that Donghyuck’s steadily bleeding hand is hovering between them loosely with his own other hand supporting it lightly.

Jeno looks over his shoulder, at Chenle hovering by Jaemin, and to see if anyone else was in the vicinity, before turning back and making a sheepish face.

“This might hurt a little, sorry, Donghyuck,” he says earnestly, before lining his own hand up with Donghyuck’s. The cut wasn’t too deep, but the blood felt sticky and this felt kind of weird, considering he didn’t do this often.

Due to the fact he was training as part of the guard, any mage training of the guard throughout the Kingdom was strictly forbidden. Jeno’s powers were kind of latent, so by the time he’d turned eighteen, and was already half a year into his training, he’d woken up his bedsheets and wall burnt from a Bless spell he literally had no idea how to control.

Terrified, he’d ran to the only person he knew could help: Mark. When he arrived at Mark’s room, he woke up the older boy frantically on the verge of tears with, _I think I’m broken and I’m not sure what to do._

Mark had calmed him down, and after a lot of thought, taken him to see Taeil. He wasn’t the head white mage anymore, but still held a margin of seniority due to pure ability and likeability.

He was to be trained in secret, and at this point, the only other people who knew even a year down the line, were his friends. He trusted Captain Doyoung like a brother (which was a weird thing to say even now, and he still wasn’t sure about that) but he still wasn't exactly sure how to breach that line of conversation with him.

He interlocks his hand with Donghyuck, mainly with the purpose of healing the wound to the best of his ability like Taeil had taught him, and part of it (deep down in the back of his head) due to his own selfish desire to hold his very good friend’s hand. Even with the slight blood. _Yikes_.

Donghyuck makes a noise at the pressing touch but tightens his grip around Jeno’s hand. Jeno looks up to see Donghyuck’s eyebrows furrowed at the stinging of the contact and where his wound is being covered by Jeno’s hand; Jeno whispering out a soft  _sorry_ between them as he begins to heal.

The blue glow that appears spits out stars that fizzle out between and around their joined hands, fusing the wound and regenerating it. It takes a minute or two, but when Jeno pulls back, the cut is completely healed.

“Gods,” Donghyuck marvels, the pinched look on his face dissipating seemingly at once as he inspected the unmarked skin still covered a little in blood, before looking up with a thoughtful smile that leaves Jeno a little winded. “How are you so good at that, Jen?”

Jeno fumbles at that, ducking his head at the praise and how close he is and failing to come up with any better words before Chenle interrupts their conversation.

“You good, Donghyuck?” Chenle calls, from behind an unimpressed Jaemin. The boy in question pulls the younger out from behind him, ushering him forward to go apologise properly.

In terms of magic, (and personality), Chenle was an enigma in his self. He worked both with Ten and with Taeil, learning to harness both black and white magic at the same time, and Jeno had overheard a couple of times now from the both of them and other senior mages that Chenle was in line to be the next High mage, even though he was only seventeen.

Jeno could see it, though. There was too much power in that boy that he knew what to do with.

It was rare for people to master more than one magic type, usually having to do with binding the energy inside of them rather than brute force learning, but Chenle always was kind of special.

“No thanks to you!” Donghyuck barks back, hand tightening on his bow again as the irritation seeps back into his bones. Jeno should’ve seen this coming, he thinks with a sigh. It was going all too well.

“ _This_ is why I practice alone. Gods, nobody can take you anywhere. Why don’t you go back to bothering Jisung or something?”

Wrong thing to say. Jeno watches the way Chenle’s expression hardens, embarrassment melting away to humiliation-borne anger. If it’s one thing Chenle hated, it was to be a problem. Donghyuck knew this, knew it didn’t matter, not when Jeno resolved it so diligently, but the stress bubbling up in him like water in a metal pot gave no leisure for a filter.

“Whatever, I’m only here to collect Jeno for training anyways,” he snaps back, storming over to them, grabbing Jeno by the crook of his arm and tugging with more strength than a kid of his size should have.

Jeno stumbles away, sending a panicked look at Jaemin when he realises their session is over already, Jaemin mouthing a quick _good luck_ with a twisted mouth. He looks back, back at Donghyuck, but the other is already angrily cocking an arrow in his bow again.

They both stumble out of the door, stopping only to let Jeno wash his own hand of Donghyuck’s blood, rendering Jeno the most distracted he’s ever been for a training in his life.

 

*

 

The tournament comes around quick, after that.

Chenle and Donghyuck still haven’t spoken properly apart from stilted conversation with everyone else, the latter dancing around how to apologise to him but ultimately being too busy to focus on anything other than the archery competition.

It renders an awkward position for Jeno and the rest of their friends, trying to manoeuvre between the two of them especially in the build-up to the actual tournament.

The day comes, and their group of friends meet up outside the arena in their plainclothes for once in a while, with even Chenle showing up; a suspiciously unruffled expression on his face.

They file into the arena, a wide sandy pit with podiums in the centre at the core of a ring of high, wooden seating. They spot Donghyuck a little way’s away, in the Kingdom’s colours of red highlights, amongst the rest of the team.

Even though there were other bouts going on, they were focusing more on the junior facet of things because that was what Donghyuck was up to.

They took seats that were opposite where their home team were situated, above another nation’s team because they were the only decent ones available, but Donghyuck beams when he hears Jaemin call out to him.

Donghyuck places the bow securely over his back, before heading over in long-legged strides to greet them.

“When do you shoot, Donghyuck?” Renjun starts, bracing his forearms on the bannister in front of them and leaning over. Jeno unintentionally (intentionally) mirrors the movement when he sees Donghyuck look up prettily at the other boy, but it’s ruined when Jaemin slumps himself over their backs, and Mark joins them in peering over the ledge.

“There’s a practice round first,” he calls back, digging his boot-clad toe into the sand beneath him.

His skin is delicately drawn on with two lines of medium-sized white markings, one starting from the corner of his eye and bending around his cheek and the other simply straight underneath it as per Archer band custom for official events like these.

It was adapted the from Elven culture deeply rooted in the band, and as the Archer captain Taeyong was an elf himself, keeping up with these traditions was important.

He looks gorgeous, and Jeno might just be losing his mind a little.

“Then,” he continues, “I don’t know. Think we’re the third team to go? You’d think they’d let us lead by initiative.”

He’s scoffing, completely blasé and jeering to hide how nervous he is. Jeno’s lips curl up in a smile at that.

“You’ll do well, Hyuck,” he says, heartfelt, before he can stop himself, really. He’s embarrassed the moment it slips out of his mouth, especially when Jaemin pinches at his side again pointedly.

Donghyuck presses his lips together at that, a tell-tale sign Jeno has recognised throughout the years they’ve known each other that he’s a little embarrassed, too.

“Well then,” he says a smidgen quieter, scratching a spot behind his ear in that way that Jeno didn’t want to think about too long, that Donghyuck was as shy as he was, “I’ll keep your sentiments close to my heart, Jen.”

“Haechan!”

They all look past him to see his two other teammates, Yeji and Heejin, calling for him with his Archer’s band moniker, the latter waving her bow a little obnoxiously high above her head even though they’d already grabbed his attention. Practice shoots were about to begin evidently, and he’d already spent so much time talking with them he hadn’t had much time to do his own prep.

He blanches, waving at his friends up in the stands frantically before running back over to where his teammates are standing across the sand and bickering with Heejin the moment they fall in step with each other.

“ _You’ll do weeeell, Hyuck_ ,” Jaemin teases, resulting in Jeno clapping him hard on his back in a mask of joviality as they go back to his seats every time he opened his mouth. “Ow! _I just wanna hold your haaaand, Hyuck._ _Maybe take you to the Fae Meadows, Hy—_ okay, okay, I’m done!”

“Leave it,” Jeno huffs, his own embarrassment not letting him get too riled up. Jaemin grins annoyingly at his side profile but finally settles down. The moment they all reach their seats, again, it was about to be the second team’s time to shine.

There were only three people per team in the junior rounds, and the practice rounds only had four shots total to show off.

Watching archery was always interesting, Jeno genuinely found himself thinking. He’d been blade trained for so long that long distance weapons weren’t even in his periphery.

He was so used to following Jaemin into battle, in finding himself back-to-back with Mark in stratagem scuffles, that the concept of standing still and truly thinking about your next move from the edge of the field was completely alien to him.

Nobody was sure if it was nerves, but the final guy of the second team completely bottles it, with the arrow seeming to stick solely to the outer yellow, inner blue areas. As these are unscored, and merely a way to puff their metaphorical bird’s chests in pride towards the rest of the competition, it didn’t really matter but it could definitely indicate the way the remainder of the clash would go.

“May the third team take their positions,” the competition organiser calls, hands dutifully crossed behind her back. The buzz of conversation around the arena slowly dies then as the home team take position on the field.

Yeji goes first, the unofficial leader of the junior rank, and completely smashes her shots. Heejin does the same, stumbling a little once she reaches the small, flat podium but rounding out to a nice score.

It’s when Donghyuck steps up, does Renjun let out a loud catcall to embarrass him with a hand cupped around his mouth. Donghyuck being Donghyuck, however, he merely relishes it, making a spurring on motion for more and bowing in a dramatic fashion in the direction of where they were all sitting once he gets what he asks for.

It isn’t just them cheering too, but a good number of the arena. Donghyuck’s effect on people was seemingly not limited to Jeno.

From where Jeno is sitting, he can see Donghyuck’s chest rise and fall into more of an even beat as he prepares to take his first shot. He feels someone shift behind him, aborted in a way, but before he can turn behind to look, Donghyuck is already loading his bow.

Jeno realised, quickly into their first year of individual training, where people like Mark were seemingly born to be great, Donghyuck’s merits were that of pure work.

His movements are so well practiced, so sharp and to the book, because it isn’t any sort of innate luck or talent. When he wasn’t good at anything, he made himself so.

The sharp eyeline that was just available over the crest of his arm, coiled back like a snake ready to strike makes something in Jeno’s stomach twist, makes his lungs falter.

When he lets the string go, they watch the arrow sail through the air in bated breath, letting out a pure cheer with the rest of the crowd with them the moment it embeds himself in the centre of the white.

The reassured nodding of the head, the joyful laugh that slips out of his mouth all meld into the cheers, but Jeno can hear it clearly. It’s weird, being so attuned to someone else. Maybe he was just in over his head.

 _Or head over heels, _a voice in his head hissed back.

He’s distracted, so much so that he misses Donghyuck re-take his position. He feels a shift behind him again, but he disregards it down to Chenle’s legs feeling a little stiff. Arrow lined up, Donghyuck pulls back and takes as much time as both before and always to line up the shot.

Except, it doesn’t quite land properly. Its original trajectory is broken, maybe not so obvious to the common eye, not unlike a craft launched into space and being warped from a different zone of gravity. It stabs the yellow, perfectly in the middle as if placed there by an invisible hand.

It’s still a good score, so the cheers are the same, but Donghyuck is clearly unhappy. Jeno is confused, too.

It could be a fluke. However, in the countless times Jeno had persuaded Donghyuck to show him a little bit of archery, the rarity of him failing a shot so perfectly lined up was unfamilliar. Donghyuck shakes his head, clearing away something or other out before lining up his third short.

When the movement behind him disturbs him again, Jeno turns, only to be faced with Chenle’s hands extended in the peculiar way Jeno has seen before, the way he casts his spells in his line of sight. They were extended towards Donghyuck, fingers moving to mimic the arrow’s path.

 _“Chenle!”_ He hisses under his breath, Chenle blanching when he realises that he’s been caught. Sure, it’s only a practice match, and he didn’t mean anything particularly nasty by fucking with Donghyuck’s shots, but it wasn’t fair to him.

Donghyuck had been killing himself to be perfect, to even make the chosen three for the competition out of the many other people. To have it ruined by some petty cold war, some ridiculous feud between best friends that could be easily resolved by one of them taking the initiative to apologise, was not happening.

Not on Jeno’s watch, at least. “Stop it!”

Jeno’s magic is too weak, too unexplored as of yet to revert the spell but he can stop it completely and makes a motion with his hand like one would whilst trying to move dangling vines out of the way in a forest, brushing away the magic entirely and letting the arrow bury itself where intended.

The motion isn’t loud, not in itself, but Donghyuck turns to look at them the moment Jeno’s hand is up in a suspicious moment. His eyes narrow, not at Chenle but at Jeno, like he’s the one who messed it up for him, and Jeno’s stomach drops as he’s pinned to his seat by the piercing glare.

Donghyuck doesn’t make any outrage as the crowd cheer again but remains a little more subdued. Jeno turns back and hits Chenle lightly on the knee, as it’s the only accessible part of the boy he can smack without making a scene.

“You'd better apologise to him,” Jeno says over his shoulder, under his breath, annoyance and exasperation making Chenle nod frantically in his periphery, even as Donghyuck embeds his final arrow in the perfect centre of the target.

The contest goes off into the brisk night, teams slowly being knocked out and the home remaining as they continue to do brilliantly. He feels slight movement when they step off to let the other team in the semi-finals enter the sand pit and try and top the near-perfect scores the Donghyuck’s team had left behind.

It’s when the boy in question disappears back under the rafters, does Chenle get up and shuffle out of the seats and after a moment of unsure shall he, shan’t he, does Jeno get up and follow after him.

He notices the cold a lot more after moving from his seat squished in between Jaemin and an older woman from another city and draws his hands around his body as he heads down the steps quickly and turns into the corridor to try and follow after Chenle.

He sees the wisp of blonde hair and that familiar outfit disappear around a corner, but as he tries to follow, a hand closes around his wrist and tugs back.

He stumbles to a halt, expecting Jisung or Jaemin to have followed him and goes to urge them to go back to the archery, but when he sees who it is, his words die in his throat.

“First of all,” Donghyuck starts, voice low. His eyes are dark, and he’s ever so clearly pissed. His grip isn’t hurtful, but somehow it hurts more knowing Donghyuck thinks he was the one who tried to screw him over. “Of all of the people who would try and mess this up for me as a joke, you’re last on the roster.”

Jeno opens his mouth, eyebrows pulled in in despair as Donghyuck goes on, and on, not letting him even get a word in edgeways. “Which is so fucked. Like I know it’s not incredibly dramatic, it was a practice match,” he carries on, jamming a finger in the centre of Jeno’s chest and making him wince and step back a little, “but you _know_ how hard I’ve been working on this. This is the one thing I’ve been training for in a while, Jen, and _fuck,_ I—”

At that point, Donghyuck stops, squinting a little. They’re silent, looking at each other, one side suspicion and the other side pure discontent.

It isn’t until footsteps Donghyuck had heard before carry on down the hall and closer to them, does Donghyuck fret and push him into a nearby open doorway that leads to underneath the seats with two hands.

Jeno lets himself stagger back into the gap, his back hitting a dusty pillar supporting the arena seats from below and lets out a small gasp of surprise that isn’t all that quiet when he feels the rough wood dig into his spine.

“Did you hear that?”

A voice above them echoes out, practically directly above, and for some reason Donghyuck immediately moves to cover his mouth after closing the door. It’s the hand that Jeno healed for him the other day, that residual sharp magic scent of lemongrass and mint still apparent.

His hand shifts over Jeno’s mouth, and he’s closer now, close enough that his breathing is tickling at the edge of his cheek. Donghyuck is squinting up to the ceiling the rafters, the stream of fire light coming in between the gaps in the stairs casting pretty beams into the place and lighting it up. 

He looks down, back at Jeno with a tight look on his face before slowly taking his hand off, almost like a drag to cup the other boy’s jaw.

He looks thoughtful, and Jeno waits for him to speak in case he does something wrong again, despite his heart hammering against his ribcage at the simple movement.

“Can you stop being so attractive whilst I’m trying to chew you out, here?” Donghyuck murmurs, trailing his thumb over the soft his cheek. “It’s kind of annoying.”

Jeno freezes.

“You,” and he chokes, raising a hand to cover his mouth and wincing internally at his inability to function. Donghyuck laughs at that, a quiet sound that Jeno never gets tired of hearing even when they’re in the middle of fighting. “You think I’m,  _cough_ , attractive?”

If there’s a hopeful lilt to his tone, Donghyuck doesn’t point it out. Instead, he lets the hand trail down his jaw just so his fingertips caress the underside of his chin ever so slowly, not stopping even when Jeno’s own hands fall lamely to his sides.

He brushes his thumb gently across the swell of his bottom lip. Watches in a tentative silence as promptly Jeno short-circuits, mouth twitching slightly in a result.

“Of course, I do,” Donghyuck replies back quietly, in a voice that seems to be on the balance between endeared and pissed off. How in the heavens he managed to do such a thing, Jeno didn’t know. He seemed to be so captivated with the other boy that he didn’t even know what to do with himself in this moment but stay completely still.

Donghyuck presses down feather-light right in the centre of Jeno’s lip, own mouth curling at the corners when Jeno inhales sharply at the action. His mouth falls open slightly at that, something that seems to please Donghyuck greatly because he speaks up again after a moment.

“Hey,” he says, eyes darting up from Jeno’s mouth to his frozen gaze, with the older boy looking like a deer caught in the headlights, “Jeno.”

“Yeah?” He breathes back, blinking rapidly to break out of his stupor. Desperate, like he couldn’t handle Donghyuck stopping whatever he was about to do.

“Do you think you could keep quiet for me?”

Jeno  _flatlines._

He feels something curling around his throat, his chest, his spine, almost involuntarily silencing him. It feels like magic, genuine magic and not just a metaphor for something evoking emotion in all of the cringeworthy romance novels he has shoved under his bed, and Jeno isn’t sure what to do but comply.

He wants to be quiet, desperately wants to continue whatever lucid dream or illusion curse he’s stepped into, but something in him makes him go to mumble an agreement. The words don’t come in time, however, but Zhong Chenle does.

The door opens, revealing the boy in question being marched into the room by Jisung. Donghyuck parts from Jeno like an electric bolt; sharp and fast, leaving the two younger boys frowning in confusion at the scene.

“What are you tw— _no,_ wait, this is important,” Jisung starts but ultimately gives up. “Chenle, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Donghyuck, I’m really sorry,” Chenle says, expression of confusion as his eyes dart between the two boys falling for something borne of real guilt, hands twisting by his stomach. “I wasn’t thinking, I was just mad you like. Called me annoying, and stuff. I didn’t think it through, you know? I didn’t realise that could’ve knocked your confidence for the rest of the competition. Jeno stopped it, but it’s still like… you know. No excuse. I don’t want you two fighting because of me.”

“Wait, wait,” Donghyuck raises a hand to pinch at his nose bridge, genuinely needing a moment to work this through. “You’re telling me that Jeno wasn’t the one who fucked with me, it was _you?”_

“Well, I mean, when you put it like that,” Chenle laughs awkwardly, shuffling on the spot. Jisung shakes his head in disbelief from behind Chenle, and Jeno grins placatingly.

“I did try and tell you,” Jeno breaks in, mouth twisting when Donghyuck turns his disbelieving gaze on Jeno, “my magic is like, so limited. I really couldn’t have managed something so elevated as puppetry. Maybe… it’s, um. A testament to his skills?”

He says the last bit unsure because it might be a bit of a punch to the gut to hype Chenle up at that time, but Donghyuck’s eyes had already softened by the time he’d said that.

“I’m sorry for being nasty, recently and then, Chenle,” Donghyuck says, embarrassment shining through as he ruffles his own hair if not for something to do, looking away. “It wasn’t nice of me. I’m supposed to be your friend, not whatever I’ve been acting like the last few weeks. Of course I forgive you.”

“You two aren’t fighting because of me, right?” Chenle says, leaning a little closer and eyes narrowing in suspicion. Something seems to click in Jisung, because his own eyes get impossibly wide, and he grabs the fabric of Chenle’s sleep, tugging twice. Chenle continues, anyway. “’Cos I’m reaaally sorry, you know?”

“Nah, they’re, um… Great, I think,” Jisung says a little on the edge of panicky with his eyes darting between their two older friends, pulling him out of the room. Chenle goes without much give, looking back at Donghyuck who waves. “Uh, see you after your match. See you… later, Jeno?”

“Yeah, I won’t be too long!” Jeno says, hoping his face isn’t as red as it feels. They leave by closing the door particularly gently, and as the strangely quick footsteps disappear down the hall, Jeno builds up the courage to look across to where Donghyuck had retreated too.

He was sitting on a crate across the room now, own cheeks dusted with red, hands bunched into his trousers that don’t have much give, and looking in the opposite direction again.

“I’m,  _fuck_ , sorry,” he says, cursing under his breath. Jeno likes this, he thinks, and can’t find it within him to be particularly mad. “Of _course_ , you wouldn’t do something like that. You’re the eternal golden boy. Why would you ever? Gods, I’m an idiot.”

Jeno finally moves, slowly approaching until he stands directly in front of him. The crate is pretty big, leaving Donghyuck’s legs dangling, but he still has to look up at Jeno with hesitance written all over his face and maybe something else Jeno can’t read too into or he might spontaneously combust.

He took into consideration two things that had happened over the course of the night:

 

  1. He’d called him attractive. He’d admitted being attracted to him. The internal Jeno was practically rolling all around in his metaphorical bed, face a burning red because his crush had called him hot. (Real Jeno wanted to do that now, too.)
  2. If that was what he was like when he was mad, Jeno kinda wanted to find out what he was like when he wasn’t.



 

He’s bold, bolder than he’s ever been when he reaches out to enclose a light grip over Donghyuck’s wrist, raising his hand higher and higher when Donghyuck just lets him.

Out of balance, the younger boy scrambles to put his other hand back a little to steady him as he watches in wonder at what Jeno was going to do.

Jeno hesitates only briefly, before brushing his lips against his knuckles in the barest of kisses. He does it again, despite Donghyuck letting out a quiet gasp, especially as he begins to trail these kisses closer and closer to his thumb.

The dip between his thumb and his finger, the edge of his thumb, and then bringing his thumb closer and closer to his mouth.

Donghyuck seems to understand and moves to stroke his fingers down Jeno’s cheek once Jeno lines his thumb up to where it was earlier; even though his cheeks are burning, making his face paint stand out even more with this flushed look of both embarrassment and pure — yearning? For something to come to fruition? Jeno liked to think so.

He hoped to all of the Gods residing throughout the lands that he wasn’t about to fuck up whatever they had, here.

He prays. And he commits to it.

His tongue darts out, brushing over his lip, before guiding it into his own mouth; eyes not leaving Donghyuck’s wide ones.

Donghyuck makes a noise then, as frozen as Jeno was earlier but receptive at the least. His mouth is twisted, expression something adjacent to awe as he feels the slight scrape of Jeno’s bottom teeth against the soft of his thumb, the wet feeling of his tongue plush against the tip of his thumb.

“Jen, this is—  _ah_ ,” he starts, aborted, when the tip of his tongue drags against the bottom half of his thumb again, inhaling harshly as Jeno finally lets him go. Jeno’s own cheeks are flushed as Donghyuck’s hand hovers between them.

Donghyuck looks like he’s seen a saint with his mouth open like that, and Jeno can’t help but feel a little bit of pride at that somewhere, next to the unreadable feeling coiling in his gut.

A beat between them, two, before Donghyuck reaches up and fists his hands in the material of Jeno’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. _Finally_ , something in Jeno rejoices with feeling, _finally._

It’s not rushed like Jeno thought it would be, he thinks about it as he stumbles closer to meet Donghyuck’s mouth, but more smooth, spiking feeling all around his body especially when the other boy moves his hands up his chest to cup his neck.

It’s a solid presence that settles Jeno, kills any nerves borne from whatever dance they’ve been duetting tonight, especially as Donghyuck’s mouth moves languid against his.

They stutter, Donghyuck pulling back a little to pull Jeno impossibly closer so he’s wedged between Donghyuck’s thighs, and Jeno’s hand falls to brace on one of them as he closes in to kiss him over and over again.

His thumb sweeps over his thigh, motivating Donghyuck to arch up a little closer.

It’s only when Donghyuck starts licking into his mouth something deep, does Jeno feel like he well and truly cannot breathe. This might be it, he thinks as he makes an incredibly embarrassing noise. Cast his body out to sea in a burning boat. He’s through.

His heart seizes something pretty and all he can do is try and meet whatever Donghyuck is giving, mouths moving wet in tandem, his one free hand moving to the base of Donghyuck’s neck before sliding up into his hair.

His hair is soft, Jeno scratching light with his fingernails as he gets a little braver, other hand trailing down his thigh to grasp the crook of his knee.

Any noise Donghyuck makes is retained, treasured in Jeno’s mental black box, making him kiss deeper, a sonorous moment that propels him further.

They stay like that for a while at least, coming up for air only to grin ridiculously at each other and kiss again, until the echoing of the host of the tournament resounds around the room.

“The finals of the nation’s archery contest, junior portion, are about to begin. Any participants in the two teams, please make your way to the arena.”

Donghyuck breaks off then, breathing hard and eyes wide as he realises he’s part of that announcement.

“Gods,” he groans, mouth a pretty, deep pink.

Jeno can only grin dopily as he’s pushed back gently, and Donghyuck slides off of the crate, stretching slightly and running a hand through his dark hair. “Um, can we talk? After the contest, I mean?”

Donghyuck sounds shy, and Jeno can’t help it as he reaches up and fiddles with a little piece of curly flyaway hair above his ear, before brushing it back slightly.

“Whenever you want,” he says back, soft and simple, making Donghyuck literally cover his eyes with his hand embarrassment, peeking through the gaps of his fingers.

“You,” he starts, before dragging his hand down his face, distressed and still with that little bit of awe, “you’re something else, Jeno Lee. Fuck, I don’t even care if we lose now. You’ve ruined me, here.”

Jeno grins cheekily but can’t deny his heart swells at Donghyuck rambling, before — in a fit of boldness — slipping a hand into the other boys and tugging him out of the room.

Donghyuck seems to short circuit himself then, as they head down the corridor hand in hand. Jeno wants to feel shy, wants to feel uncomfortable at the daunting feeling of what’s coming now, but all he can think about is how wonderful Donghyuck is.

Donghyuck fidgets, red-tipped ears prominent as they part at the end of the hallway, Jeno parting with a kiss against the side of his hand again before sending him off to take the mound again.

(Donghyuck manages to ace the rest of his shots despite clearly being jittery. Jeno can’t help but beam the remainder of the competition, even when Jisung looks at him with suspicion from next to a completely clueless Chenle.

When they ultimately win, because of _course_ they do, he cheers the absolute loudest, and his heart feels light when Donghyuck turns to grin at him in the midst of the full team celebrations.)

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/dongjaems) | [curiouscat](http://curiouscat.me/nahei)


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